No Mark Upon Her

lift back round the other side once we’re finished.” Leaving Rashid and the SOCOs to deal with the removal of the body to the mortuary van, the others traversed the walkway back across the river, single file. Bringing up the rear, Kincaid felt a bit like the tenth Indian, but he was impressed by the dogs’ easy nonchalance as they crossed over the rushing water of the weir.
    When they reached the verge, Cullen looked askance at the Astra. “This is yours? Since when?”
    “Shut it,” Kincaid said cheerfully. “It was a gift from my dad. And already useful. You even get to ride in the front.”
    Tavie, however, glanced at the car with approval. “Great. We’ll put the dogs in the storage area. This is Tosh, by the way,” she added, reaching down to stroke the German shepherd’s head. “And this is Finn.” She gestured towards the Lab as Kincaid opened the rear hatch. “Kieran, can you—”
    “Oh, right.” The dark-haired handler led his dog round to the back of the Astra, and the Lab jumped in on command, as did Tavie’s German shepherd. But the man seemed dazed, and Kincaid had noticed an edge in Tavie’s voice when she spoke to him. There was definitely some tension between the two.
    “Just as well you won’t have doggie breath down your necks,” Tavie said as she and Kieran got into the rear seat. “Although it’s not far. Do you know the way?”
    “Only that it must be back towards Henley.”
    “I’ll direct you, then, but”—she glanced dubiously at Doug in his suit and light overcoat—“it’s a good walk from where we’ll have to leave the car.”
    Kincaid suppressed a grin. He’d drawn the lucky straw that day, it seemed, having dressed for sloshing in mud puddles with the children. “I’m sure we’ll manage.”
    He motioned for Singla to follow them in his own car, then turned left towards Henley when the constable controlling the traffic cleared an opening for them.
    Kincaid caught intermittent glimpses of the river, then the road moved away from the water as it ran through a cluster of buildings that Tavie identified as the village of Greenlands. After that there were plowed fields to the right and tree-dotted meadows to the left. Soon, Tavie directed him to turn into what looked like a drive leading to a private estate. Two serviceable utility vehicles were parked just beyond the open gate, as was a Thames Valley panda car. All were unoccupied.
    “This is the closest access,” Tavie explained. “We’ll have to cross the meadows on foot.”
    Cullen looked down at his shoes and muttered, “Bugger.”
    Kieran was out of the car before Kincaid had even popped the hatch on the storage area. Within seconds, he had his dog on the ground and had started across the field at an oblique angle to the river. He looked back at them impatiently. “We’ve got to hurry. The light’s going.”
    “Can’t we stay on the track?” asked Cullen.
    “No.” Pointing, Tavie added, “We’ve got to cross this field, and the next. You can come in from the other side of Temple Island, but that’s even farther, and wouldn’t be any drier.” She snapped the lead on her dog and started after Kieran.
    As soon as Kincaid felt the soft, tussocky grass squish beneath his trainers, he felt some sympathy for Cullen—and for DI Singla, who was no better prepared. But Kieran had been right about the light. The hedgerow in the distance, and the tree line beyond that, were becoming gray-green blurs on a gray horizon.
    Although the dogs hadn’t been given a command to search, they were eager, seeming to sense that they were engaged in work of some kind. Tavie and Kieran kept up with them at a steady trot, while the others straggled out at intervals, this time with Singla bringing up the rear.
    What had looked like a hedgerow from a distance turned out to be an inlet snaking in from the river, which they crossed by a single-planked footbridge. By the time they’d crossed the second field, Kincaid’s feet were soaked and he was beginning to sweat, despite the chill in the air. Ahead lay the heavy belt of vegetation he had seen from the lane. They’d been following a faint track through the grass, but when the dogs and handlers reached the trees, they veered towards the river and plunged directly into the dense thicket.
    Kincaid heard dogs bark, and an answering chorus. Then, as he pushed his way through branches, snagging his anorak, he heard human voices as well. As Cullen and Singla crashed